I have often called Park Forest a “village different” in that at times the village often connects with residents in unusual ways.
For some years, under the guidance of Evelyn Randle, the village’s community relations manager, the village has paid attention to the people who pay attention to the village through a local “Oscar” ceremony.
This year, some 31 individuals and institutions were honored in 10 categories last Saturday in a ceremony in Freedom Hall.
Between Penny and I, we touched hands, bumped fists and shared ideas with almost all of the 2026 notables. This time around, however, we were part of the Making a Difference list, sort of, as members of the Tuesday morning free food pop-up led by honoree Barb Dorman, as we dole out provisions each Tuesday at the First Baptist Church.
Not all honorees were present, but all had had a list of accomplishments read about them.
Evelyn got it right. You heard some words of praise about you at a ceremony in honor of you.
It was over in fewer than two hours, but we must confess there was an aura of an unspoken “well done,” heard in the hall. Park Forest has problems to solve, but there seems to be an unbreakable bond that unites the people of the community.
Deer-ly beloved
On a now typical frosty evening late last week, Beth Brecher was about to walk out of her back door onto Central Park intending to feed the birds. Instead, she saw through the picture window a startled male deer who was probably foraging for seeds dropped from her bird feeder.
It was the second time in three days this handsome antlered creature and Beth observed each other at close range. The first time, Mr. Stag was accompanied by three sleek does.
These deer are nighttime foragers who might live in the Sauk Trail Woods Forest Preserve east of Western Avenue. Their expeditions into Park Forest are made possible by a wide open pathway underneath those electrical wires which stretch along an east-west route through the center of town, just north of an easy feeding ground in Central Park and points west.
At night, it seems the only danger to these animals would be a speeding car along Western Avenue. We have witnessed cars slowing to the speed limit as these animals lope against traffic.
At times we hear nighttime tales of hungry deer grazing on twigs, buds, leaves and flower bulbs.
It was, said Beth Brecher, both a startling experience. Except for a twitch or two of its hind legs, the deer “posed” for a photo before darting away.
As good fortune would have it, the same day she “shot” the deer, she managed to snap a photo of a black squirrel. At one time, an uncommon sight in the area, this newcomer to the village was part of a general migration of critters, caused in part by obvious climate change, or haven’t you noticed.
Case in point. Once If you wanted to view an eagle, the closest location would be Starved Rock State Park, some 70 miles from here. These days, we have seen an eagle swooping around at the Matteson Auto Mall.
Times change.
Brrrrr!
Cold enough for you?
More than 60 years ago, while working my way along a rickety journalistic treadmill, I, along with Penny and our first born, were surviving in Roswell, New Mexico, when in January a massive cold wave hit the community. The local weatherman stuck a wet finger out the door and prophesied “16 below.”
At the time, our car was a shiny red 1960 Chevrolet Corvair, the car with the remarkable slogan of “unsafe at any speed,” which we stored in a shed in back of our rented house. Our neighbor told us that we would not have a problem starting the car the next morning if we plugged in a corded light bulb and placed it next to motor. It worked.
These days we have a car that does most of the thinking for the driver. Bells, buttons, beeps and lights keep us enveloped in a blanket of electronic safety and comfort.
We don’t need a stinking light bulb, we thought.
Alas, we got going that day by a AAA agent who did not use a light bulb.
Jerry Shnay is a freelance columnist for the Daily Southtown.
